


#1 - Sleepy Sex: After the Mission and the Morning After

by fallenfromluster



Series: Roquill Kinktober 2017 [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Best Friends, Bottom Peter, Caring boyfriends, Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rocket is a Sweetheart, Sleepy Cuddles, Top Rocket, some character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 16:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12436929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenfromluster/pseuds/fallenfromluster
Summary: Peter and Rocket get back from a mission. Peter is all ready to go, but Rocket is a bit concerned about Peter's injured state. Fortunately they have tomorrow to have fun as well.“You’re more like those sweet and sour candies back on earth; always have an edge.” Rocket punched him in the side, gently. Peter knew what Rocket could do if he really tried with all those cybernetics. “So I got ready for you, if you, ya know.”The red brown eyes widened before a grin appeared. “Mmm, Pete.” Rocket’s voice was a rumble at this point, “’Course you did. You’re not too tired to ride the Rocket?”





	#1 - Sleepy Sex: After the Mission and the Morning After

Peter didn’t wake up alone much anymore. It wasn’t like he’d had an absence of partners in the past what with being a cool ‘legendary outlaw’ and all, but most of the people he’d hooked up with wanted to leave in the morning. He still cringed at the girl he’d accidentally taken to Morag. God that morning had been awkward, first fleeing from Ronan’s men, then taking her to Xandar, and then being arrested by the Nova Core. He really hoped that she didn’t have his number still. At least now he had a solid boyfriend, who was better than any blanket. So, when he woke up alone and glanced at his clock, still in the middle of their sleep shift, he was confused until his side ached and he felt the med-pack glued against his skin. Then he remembered the dumb as fuck mission.

After Ronan and Ego, the team had really come together, and become a prominent mercenary group in the Nova Empire. He wouldn’t say they weren’t outlaws anymore, but they also weren’t actively pursued by the law. ‘Bit of good, bit of bad, bit of both’: he still wanted to make it the team motto, but it really hadn’t caught on. They’d received a mission to retrieve a data drive stolen from the Nova Core; one hundred thousand units if it came back intact. Should have been an easy mission. The Guardians had taken on Ronan and an asshole of a planet, what were a few thieves? And it was easy as pie, for a while at least. They chased the thieves to Ranoth, broke on board their ship, and just as Peter tried to introduce himself as ‘Starlord, Legendary Outlaw’ the idiots activated their self-destructed and jumped into an escape pod. All the Guardians had made it out, but Peter was still thrown against a tree, and worse the data drive was thrown somewhere into the middle of the swamp. The tracker the Xandarians game them still showed it was intact, somewhere in the murky water.

After patching himself up, it was ten hours of the Guardians slogging through the mud trying to find one hand sized drive. And Rocket insisted on riding him, claiming that his tail was “too beautiful to touch the filthy water.” And maybe it was—like Peter would ever say that to Rocket—but Rocket wasn’t light with all those cybernetics and guns, and with the injury to his side it wasn’t easy to carry him through the swamp. Whatever, if the price of keeping Rocket as his boyfriend was occasionally carrying him around and some physical discomfort, it was worth it. It still left Peter totally exhausted back on the Milano. 

Rocket had padded off to his lab to make sure the data drive worked, saying, “Sorry Pete, need to make sure we get paid before we have some fun,” before giving one of his terrible winks. Peter still didn’t understand how Rocket was so bad at this. Half the time it looked like he was trying to get a hair out of his eye. Peter just took a shower and got ready for his boyfriend, before collapsing into bed. The warm water had done nothing to either relieve his soreness or wake him up. From past experience with Rocket heading to his lab, he knew he could grab an hour or two of sleep. But after half a year of dating—no, more than that, seven months—he really couldn’t go to sleep without Rocket there. Instead he pulled his Zune off the night table and put the earbuds in, before burying his face in the pillow. It was incredible how much technology had advanced on earth, not that a music player was that impressive. Rocket had installed an anti-matter ray just a few weeks ago, after all. Guess he couldn’t really compare anything to Rocket’s genius even if the Zune did hold hundreds of songs. In fact—

Peter woke with a start, remembering something about whiskers brushing his cheek, as his cabin door slid open. He groaned and turned over. Shielding his eyes against the light he saw a short silhouette, and just grinned. Yeah, that’s how he knew: even before he could think he was happy to see Rocket. “Hey, you get it to work?”

Rocket rolled his eyes. Peter really couldn’t see the eyes, but he knew enough about Rocket to interpret the way his ears twitched. “Course I did. Why you still up? You carried me around all day.” Rocket padded over to the bed and leapt up, sitting against Peter’s calf. As he ran his hand up and down Peter’s thigh, he murmured, “Should be asleep, idiot.” Peter’s smile only grew wider at Rocket’s attempt to hide his affection and worry. He wouldn’t say it, but he knew who the real sap was in this relationship. Suddenly the dream came back to him as Rocket’s hand ghosted a bit higher in gentle strokes. He’d been in a bar, and Rocket had come up to him, bought him a drink, then pushed him into a corner. He’d made him sit against the floor before licking along his jaw, pulling down his zipper, and slipping one hand into Peter’s waistband before dropping in a room key and walking away. God that had been hot and Peter throbbed in his underwear. “You falling asleep, Pete?” Rocket had noticed his silence and glazed eyes, apparently not his dick, though.

Peter just smirked, and tried to hold back a blush. Not that it mattered, Rocket probably couldn’t tell in the dark. “Yeah, had a dream about you.”

Rocket stilled for a few seconds. “Dreaming about me shooting someone?” Of course, that’s what his mind would go to first. Even after all the cuddling and talking, it was plasma bolts, lightning arcs, and shell casings. Peter was just glad he had a lot of time to get Rocket to think about some other things.

“No stupid. Well not that kind of shooting. Dreamt you took me home from a bar.” Peter wasn’t sure if he was being seductive or just sounded tired. 

“What? Oh.” Peter knew his boyfriend well enough to see the gears turning. For someone so smart, he was surprisingly bad at innuendo. “Oh.” The last word came out almost as a growl. Rocket gave up petting his leg and crawled up Peter’s chest until they were face to face. In the low light of the room Peter couldn’t really see much but the spread of the whiskers, the darker fur of the mask, and the soft eyes. Easily in the top three pair of eyes Peter had looked into. “Did I treat ya right? Buy you dinner, be all sweet?” 

Peter laughed and pressed a kiss to Rocket’s muzzle, right below the nose, then pulled Rocket against his neck. “Yeah, you were real sweet in the dream. Dropped a room card right in my pants. Too bad I’m awake now.” 

“Hey, you saying I ain’t sweet on you?” Rocket wriggled a bit in Peter’s arms then nibbled on his ear making him giggle. Somehow Rocket could always find his most ticklish places. Probably studied human anatomy, the jack ass.

“You’re more like those sweet and sour candies back on earth; always have an edge.” Rocket punched him in the side, gently. Peter knew what Rocket could do if he really tried with all those cybernetics. “So I got ready for you, if you, ya know.”

The red brown eyes widened before a grin appeared. “Mmm, Pete.” Rocket’s voice was a rumble at this point, “’Course you did. You’re not too tired to ride the Rocket?” While the rest had been flirting, Peter knew Rocket really needed to know.

“Yes.” Then Peter laughed and pulled Rocket in for another kiss. They still hadn’t figured out how that exactly should work between what Rocket called a ‘weird as fuck humie mouth’ and a muzzle, but just pressing his lips against Rocket’s face still felt good. “I can’t believe you still say that. You’re such a dork.” He paused for a second, before adding, “Not that I want you to stop.”

If Rocket could blush, Peter was sure that he would have, but he still hadn’t quite deciphered all the whisker twitches. “You’re the dork, idiot.” Rocket paused and looked down at him. “You sure you aren’t too tired? I could wait, if you wanted.”

“Nah, it’s fun. We’ve got a good run going too. It’s been like, what, five weeks without a break?” This was the thing Peter didn’t expect about their relationship. Rocket’s libido was out of control. Okay maybe he should have. Like everything else, Rocket was explosive in combat, in conversations, and in bed. Past all the insecurities and anger, Rocket really just wanted to fuck, like all the time. Which Peter was pretty okay with. “Let’s have some fun, okay, buddy?”

Rocket just growled, hopped off the bed, and walked over to the cabinet where Peter kept the lube. “Turn over.” Peter slipped his shirt over his head and pulled down his underwear before rolling onto his stomach, wincing slightly as his side hit the mattress . He still didn’t quite understand how Rocket had gone from a dude who tried to kidnap him, to the dude who saved him from his father, to his best friend, to his cuddle buddy, and then to ‘God, I want to make out with this guy’. When the whole relationship thing started, he hadn’t expected to be a total bottom. It’s not like he expected anything really. But with the size difference, Rocket’s attitude, and the skill—how the hell was Rocket so good at this?—it was the best option. It really lived up to Rocket’s claim, “Ain’t no thing like me, except me.” Peter listened to Rocket rummaging through the drawers for a few seconds, but the pillow and blankets were soft. He felt his eyes close. Maybe he’d end up back in that hotel room.

And then, “Hey, Pete? You really up for this?” Rocket was against his ear again, sounding worried. “Like, it’s fine if you’re too tired. There’s always tomorrow.”

Peter turned his head until only half his mouth was in the blankets, “I want you now, waited for you, Ranger.”

Rocket dragged his tongue against Peter’s earlobe before responding, “Fine, Stardork. I’ll give it to you. Gonna be gentle though, you seem a bit sore.” Rocket started to shimmy down pressing soft bites and licks to his back, before Peter even realized what he’d said.

Yeah that wasn’t okay. Peter knew Rocket had seen him punched by the daughter of the Mad Titan (multiple times), survive a crash or two, and be thrown forty feet into a wall by his father; he didn’t need gentle, he needed Rocket. He reached back with his arms as far as they could go leaving himself pressed down into the mattress up, ass up, digging his hands into Rocket’s fur. “Can’t break me. I’m tired, but I want to have fun. Just go for it?” 

“Ugh, fine. You got issues Quill, you know that, right?” He’d finally slipped down far enough that Peter could feel the growing length right over his ass, sliding over his cheeks, leaking a bit and sometimes slipping right down his crack. Peter widened his legs slowly. Yeah, he could have just opened his legs all the way, but he knew that they both enjoyed the anticipation and slow friction. Then Rocket growled and just thrust down pushing the head over Peter’s hole, over and over again. He was still open enough for a little slip of Rocket’s cock, but not enough for anything more.

Rocket hummed a little before muttering, “You ain’t quite ready, Pete. Why you lying? Way too eager for my dick?” Peter blushed. At least Rocket couldn’t see it; he never let it go when he could make his boyfriend go red. “I can see that. I can see your blush! Forget I can see at night, humie?” 

Scratch that. “Yeah, I did. You gonna do something about it?” Rocket paused then poured out some lube onto Peter’s crack. It was cold, and made him clench up until he felt own of Rocket’s dexterous finger running up and down over his hole, swirling around just enough to make him moan. 

“Yeah, that’s it. I got what you want.” And then one finger slipped in, just deep enough to reach his prostate and slowly massaged, sending out sparks.

“Ah,” Peter moaned just before bucking up as a second and third finger slipped in. “Good job Rocky.”

“’Course I do a good job. You still don’t believe me when I say I’m the best pilot in the galaxy?” Rocket snorted before really massaging, putting all the right pressure on the gland. Peter moaned and squirmed for a few seconds against the fingers, which were starting more than sparks to his leaking cock. He closed his eyes and his mind drifted. Every few seconds his rocked back, embracing the waves of pleasure, letting his cock drag across the sheets. His mind turned back to the mission. Maybe next time they went out together and Rocket rode him they could find a secluded spot, away from the rest of the team, and he could really let ride him. Could be fun. Of course he’d have to make sure that Gamora didn’t find them, or god forbid Drax, who—“You’re thinking too much, Pete. Probably ready for something more, right?”

The fingers scissored a few more times, and Peter just nodded, scraping his cheek against the pillow. He was probably ready, but Rocket wasn’t comfortable with the whole penetration thing until Peter was as loose as possible. Somehow, he was the most considerate partner Peter had ever had. Peter snorted into the pillow at the thought and suddenly the fingers pulled out.

“What’s so funny?” Peter glanced back to see Rocket doing his sexy glower—yeah Peter had learned the differences between all the glares—and smiled weakly.

“Just thinking about you.” Yeah, that was Rocket’s trigger. Saying that fondly could always get him really going. Peter was pretty sure that if he could see the skin under Rocket’s fur there’d be a blush, and the whiskers twitched again.

“Fine, I’ll give you something to think about.” Rocket lined up and started pressing in. The burn was sweet, not a pain, but the feeling of the ring of muscle stretching made Peter lick his lips and push back against the weight behind him. And then the head was in and sliding deeper. Rocket never just thrust in, just relaxed and made Peter enjoy the moment. At three inches the head ghosted over his prostate just right; Rocket was nice like that. At five Peter started to feel full, and then at eight? Oh boy, this was great. Then he waited for what was coming, the pull back and the first experimental thrust, shallow and gentle. Then a little deeper and a little harder each thrust as Rocket got into a rhythm, but it wasn’t enough.

Peter reached back again, and tried pulling Rocket closer. “Come on, you know I’m not fragile. Go for it, Ranger.” His hands slipped through fur and he felt a click as some of the cybernetics rotated in to place. He knew what was coming and his dick twitched.

“Fine, loser.” Rocket huffed and the pace ratcheted up, going from gentle to rapid to punishing. Peter could only moan and take it, grinding a bit against the sheets to get more friction. The lube made it slick, but there still was a delicious burn and when Rocket pulled all the way out, then slammed in? It was like a lightning strike against his prostate, coursing through his veins, making him squirm under the weight. It was too good, and Peter drifted off, drooling against the pillow. But then Rocket slowed, and Peter could only groan at the denial.

“Wha,”—words weren’t coming easy now—“Why’re you stopping? It was good!” He felt Rocket pull out, leaving him empty and wanting. 

“Peter, I just noticed your bruise.” Rocket seemed almost panicked as he explained. “And you’ve got that med-pack on. You just seem really tired and out of it. I just don’t want to—” Peter rolled over fumbling with the blankets and trying to get his legs not to hit Rocket until he was inside his thighs, sitting there looking down. He’d seen Rocket like this before.

Peter scooted back until his head was against the back of his headboard and reached out to caress Rocket’s ear. His boyfriend leaned into the touch and just embraced the sensation for a minute. “Hey bud, I want this. It’s good. I enjoy it. You’re good.” Rocket seemed to shake for a second. “You’re good. You care about me a lot. Why don’t we try in the morning?” He seemed to go limp in relief, and Peter had to pull him up to his chest, rubbing gentle circles along his back, trying to avoid the sensitive implants. L2 and C5 always seemed to be the worst. “You know I want you to tell me if you’re worried. I want you to enjoy fucking me as much as I enjoy it.”

Rocket wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck and pulled up until his nose was against Peter’s. “Sorry I get—“Rocket stopped himself and just sighed. “Thanks." Peter just pulled him tighter and rubbed their cheeks together, imitating the nuzzling Rocket sometimes gave him. That’s how he knew: Rocket wanted to do right by him, even in the heat of the moment. There hadn’t been much right before. 

“Hey, it’s fine bud. Let’s just sleep.” And with that he hugged Rocket against his chest. Slowly he fell asleep to gentle breaths against his face and soft fur. 

 

In the morning, well not really morning just the end of their sleep cycle, Peter almost sneezed with all the fur against his face and had to pry Rocket off. His boyfriend blinked a few times before rubbing his hands across his eyes, then burrowed back into the pillow. He laughed and ran his hand up and down Rocket’s arm. “Hey, you up?”

 

“No. Flark off.” Peter chuckled and pressed a kiss to Rocket’s forehead. He knew how to handle this: a few scratches under the chin and some rubs along the neck made Rocket a sweetheart in the morning, so Peter just kept massaging though his boyfriend’s fur until his eyes opened again. They were almost too close to each other to really focus their eyes, but Rocket seemed to melt under his gaze, and gave a tentative lick across Peter’s nose. Peter smiled and returned the favor. Yeah, they were both saps. 

 

He’d have stayed here longer, just holding onto the moment, but then he felt something hard against his abs and smirked; he had some work to do. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes if you want to,” Rocket was still staring at his face, so Peter was able to waggle his eyebrows, “You know.” It took Rocket to figure it out, but then he rolled his hips, grinding his erection across Peter’s chest, leaving a trail of precum. Peter chuckled at his success before saying, “Gonna enjoy that. Be back soon,” and standing up.

Peter walked across the room and into his shower, pulling the med-pack off in front of the mirror. The bruise had mostly faded and he didn’t feel nearly as sore. After turning on the water and letting it warm up, he stepped into the steam and slowly massaged the soap through his hair and across his body. A bit pent up after last night, he felt his dick harden but he had to stay focused. No matter how much the idea of Rocket dropping a key card into his pants and then walking off turned him on, or that length sliding in an and out, slowly turning from burning to massaging to oh fuck—Peter snapped back to find himself jacking his cock. But why settle when he had the real thing? He laughed and released his cock, then turned to the device he’d installed years ago. Peter wasn’t exactly a stranger to butt fun before meeting Rocket, and fortunately the device in his shower had survived the vessel getting destroyed by both Ronan and the Sovereign, so after a few minutes he was all good.

After toweling off, he walked back into the room, naked, just to find his furry lover snoring into the pillow. He walked over and shook the guy until he was awake again. “Hey, want to have some fun now?” 

Rocket rolled over and grinned, teeth glistening against the light of the cabin. “Yeah, you ready?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, completely awake. No med-pack, bruise is fading.” Peter gave a slow twirl demonstrating his healed state and showing off his ass. He felt Rocket watching his back, and when he turned around he could tell by the dilated pupils that he had his boyfriend right where he wanted him. Maybe it was just rubbing it in—Peter snickered at his own pun—but he decided to play a bit more, slipping in one finger and then two. Within, thirty seconds it was three, but he couldn’t tease anymore. Peter withdrew and kneeled on the bed then rotated and flopped down onto his back. He pulled Rocket on top of himself until they were face to face. In the false morning light of the cabin he could see each hair on Rocket’s face—brown, black, white, and maybe a few hints of red—and it was like a work of art. That’s how he knew: Rocket was beautiful even after having his fur pressed up against one side of his head in crazy patterns. Peter reached out and ran his hand against his face. “So, what are you going to do?”

Finally Rocket seemed to recover and put on his typical smirk. “What am I going to do?” He pushed Peter’s hands off his chest until they were above his head, then brought his muzzle next to his ear. It was still soft, but to Peter it sounded deafening: “I’m going to take you.” Peter moaned and pulled Rocket onto his lips again, just for a second. “Thought you’d like that. Fully awake, riled up. This is going to be fun, Baby Boo.” Yeah, that was the nickname he used only when he was the sweetest, most affectionate. Peter loved it. Rocket sat up and shimmied down, and Peter finally felt the dick again, trailing down his abs, until Rocket was back between his thighs and grabbed Peter behind the knees, using his strength push him into the perfect position, ass hovering just above the covers. 

“Yeah, Ranger, do it.” Peter was almost begging for it after the blueballs his boyfriend had given him last night.

“Want to see you come though. This position okay?” It was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, It’s great. Want to see your handsome face too.” Again, Rocket’s whiskers twitched, probably the only way Peter could tell if he was blushing. “Come on, I got three fingers in earlier; you don’t need to do anything but go.”

“Nope. You know how I like to do to you. Keep you’re hands up though.” Peter whined but complied. The two hadn’t really tried bondage, but the number of times Rocket told him to keep his hands some place really made it feel like it. “Fine, if you’re so cocky. My fingers might not be as big, but I’ll make you feel them.” Then Rocket came back and suddenly he felt four fingers slide in. Peter’s ring stretched as the fingers scissored and played along his inner walls, occasionally sweeping against his prostate. It felt damn good, and Peter made sure to let out a moan. “Oh, am I doing something right?”

“Yeah, please just go for it though.” Peter reached down again and put his hand around Rocket’s jaw and made him look up. “I. Want. You. Inside. Me.” Rocket smirked, dragged his fingers out, lined up, and just hilted him. No hesitation, just desire. His length burned and hit the right spot. Sure, it hurt a little, but god damn. Then he dragged it out and thrust it back in, over and over, each thrust drawing a little further out until—"Fuck just keep doing that.” Rocket kept teasing over the quivering muscles of Peter’s hole before plunging back in. First few inches hit the prostate, beyond that it was just feeling full and whole? Yeah, he didn’t know exactly what this meant, but he liked it. The thrusts got faster and faster until all Peter could feel was a rolling, he didn’t have the word for it. It was electricity, fullness, and pleasure: a superposition of them. Fuck. “Rocket, how’re you so,” Peter let out another moan before whimpering, “good?”

A few pants and thrusts later, “Just practice and research, Stardork. Have to be good for you.” The cock sliding into him, Rocket’s words, it was all too fucking awesome? Sweat was dripping off him and his dick was drooling precum. It was just, just too much. Peter gabbed on to his cock, knuckles dragging along his skin. “Tell me, tell me when you’re ready, want to cum with you.” He wanted to hold on, but he was close.

“Be a minute. Want to enjoy you.” Rocket let go of Peter’s legs and let them drop beside him, then knocked Peter’s hands away from his dick, then grabbed and held them down. Peter didn’t mind. Making this last longer wasn’t exactly a problem, but his prostate was starting to steal his senses.

“Ranger,” Peter panted, “Ranger I need to,” a few more thrusts made his eyes roll back, “Ranger, Rocket, I need,” and suddenly his hands were free.

“Go for it Pete.” His hands flew to his cock and in three or four pumps, whatever, he couldn’t count anymore, he was erupting all across his abs. Rocket had also stilled and moaned, dick twitching inside Peter, letting go of whatever badass façade he had. 

Peter traced the mess across him abs running fingers across each valley, before looking up at his panting boyfriend. In his most serious voice he said, “Good job, I’m soaked. Explain yourself.”

Rocket’s ears lowered, and he muttered, “Well don’t see why you’re complaining, I was—” Then Rocket noticed the smirk, and the shaking. “You’re laughing at me. Thought you were my boyfriend. You’re supposed to be nice.” He turned his face away until Peter leaned up, so he could tickle him under his jaw. This always made Rocket squirm, and giggle. God he was cute. 

Eventually Peter stopped, and said, “Hey, I’m just teasing. For future reference, anytime you make me cum like this, you did good, babe.” 

Rocket’s ears shot back up and he turned back to look Peter in the eyes. “Thanks, Pete.” A few moments later he pulled out after his dick softened a bit. “I’ll go get a washcloth. Guess we have to change—” 

Yeah that wasn’t happening. Peter let out a quick, “Nope,” and pulled Rocket up against his chest until Rocket’s face was against his neck again. There wasn’t any real struggle, but Peter got a few nips along his jaw and earlobe, nothing hard enough to break the skin.

“My fur’s all sticky now, you asshole,” Rocket snarled before reaching his arms up to Peter’s neck so he could cuddle closer. Peter just let out a noncommittal hum. “You’d better wash it when we get to the shower! With the nice shampoo.” The last few words came out muffled as he nuzzled through Peter’s scruff. This was nice. This was what mornings should be.

“’Course I will, but I just want to hold you now.” That’s how he knew; he’d known for awhile. Peter felt the whiskers twitch against his cheek—definitely a blush with fur against flesh. He thought about all the times they’d had together, and smiled. It wasn’t how he’d imagined his life going with all the alien kidnapping, planet fathers, and universe saving, but it was a good life, one where he met his best friend, more than best friend. “Hey, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it? That you’re a dork?” Rocket murmured against his jaw.

Peter agreed, “Yeah, I am, but that’s not it.” He slowly pulled Rocket away from his jaw until their eyes met again. “Love you, Ranger.”

“Oh, um, me too” Rocket let out awkwardly. Then cringed back and growled, “No, that ain’t right.” Suddenly Rocket surged forward and locked his jaws over Peter’s mouth and swiped his tongue along his lips. Looking satisfied, he settled back, and said. “Love you too, baby boo.” Peter was breathless and wide eyed. “There, I do it right?” Peter just nodded, and Rocket settled back against his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first submission for Kinktober 2017. It's twenty days late, but I've been fairly busy. I can't guarantee that there'll be a fic a day after this, but I really want to make all 31 days Roquill. Somehow this has become my favorite pairing. Who could have predicted?
> 
> I would very much appreciate critiques of this fic, however. I've never written a sexually explicit fan fic before, so your comments would be helpful if they are constructive. Hope that you enjoyed!


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